Resting in the Mystery
“And on the seventh day, He rested from all the work He had done.”
Why? Why did God rest? We know He didn’t have to, didn’t need to. I think maybe it was an example to us, a lesson: That there is enough time to stop and smell the roses, to enjoy the sunset, to breathe deep in the midst of an impossibly busy world, to simply be a witness to the mystery of life.
What would it look like for you to truly REST today? To take a break from worrying, from wondering, from feeling guilty? To rest your soul from fear, from shame, from doubt. To walk away from those things and say “I refuse to do that right now.”
Several months ago, I wrote down all the things my beliefs had long created in me: fear of false teachings; shame over choices in my past; guilt for “missing the mark” in so many ways; anxiety over whether I was thinking/believing/feeling the “right” way; guilt for doubting and questioning the Bible and those who spoke “the truth.” Instead of trying again and again and again to reconcile everything the same way I always had, I just gave up. I said, “I refuse to do this anymore. I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed with all this spiritual work I’ve been doing, exhausted from trying to hold all these things together. I’m done!”
I won’t lie, it was terrifying. I thought maybe God would smite me right there. I wondered if I was in danger of “losing my salvation” in the way Romans talks about.
But then the craziest thing happened.
I received rest instead.
Since that moment, it’s been *easier* for me to be patient with my kids and loving towards my spouse. It’s been *easier* for me to go with the ebb and flow of life when I’m not constantly berating myself for all the ways I’ve failed in my faith. I’m still not sure what to make of it. When I was trying so hard to be the kind of parent and wife I thought God wanted me to be, I made a hot mess of it all. When I gave up and essentially got mad and rebellious and felt like I was turning my back on God, it now strangely seems like I was actually turning towards Him.
I feel a bit suspended now, between the way I was before and the way I’m still hoping to find. I’m not flailing too much anymore but I’m definitely not anchored like I was in the past. It feels sort of like I’m being carried along, but by what and to where I can’t entirely be sure.
Is this what true rest is actually like? To float in the in-between, certain but not? I always thought rest was found in the knowing, but what if it is found in the mystery instead?
